


Sweet and Passionate

by AurigaVenatici (p_3a)



Series: 30 Prompt NSFW Challenge [15]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:05:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/p_3a/pseuds/AurigaVenatici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrathion is having a bad day when Anduin Wrynn drops by. The Prince of Stormwind ends up showing the dragon that even in his darkest moods, Anduin still thinks he is worthy of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet and Passionate

Today had not been a good day.

The Black Prince was sat in the middle of the biggest mess he'd made to date. One of his plans hadn't gone, well, to plan - and that was, simply put, not good enough. It didn't matter exactly _what_ had gone wrong. It didn't matter that it was, as his agents had so short-sightedly put it, "minor" and "redeemable" and "not that big a deal". The point was that it had gone _wrong_ , and that _wrong_ was _bad_.

To say that Wrathion had taken the news ungraciously would be an understatement. The mess was literal as well as metaphorical - his belongings were strewn around his room in the tavern. Broken furniture littered the floor along with scattered and ripped papers; the curtains were half-off their rail, which had been snapped in half when a particularly heavy gemstone had been thrown at it; the window would have been smashed, if it'd had a pane in it. The wallpaper was scraped in several places, and the floorboards too - and in the middle of it all was the young man who had caused it all.

The scratches didn't stop on the scenery, either. He was curled up, his hair and armour in as much disarray as the rest of the room, his chest heaving with unreleased sobs as he regarded his handiwork on his wrists. The cuts weren't as neat as he'd have liked them to be. They never were. They ran a criss-cross pattern over the insides of both wrists, some deeper than others, none of them parallel. A ridiculous mess. Just like everything else.

He was about to raise the knife for another when he heard the most absurd thing - a knock at the door. Who would _dare_ to disturb him now?! He sat up, suddenly livid. He had left _specific_  instructions not to be bothered! He had been _sure_  to tell everyone, and who would _possibly_ dare to--

\-- he suddenly realised _exactly_ who would dare to ignore such an instruction and, to put it plainly, panicked.

He had to hide-- this. Somehow. Anduin Wrynn could _not_ see the mess. He frantically scrambled to shove the broken chair under the desk it had originally come from, to push the broken wardrobe door back onto its hinges, but in his haste he only succeeded in further breaking it - it fell to the ground with a loud slap, and Wrathion jumped back, whining in the back of his throat. Everything was just getting worse and worse, and it wasn't fair! He forced his facial expression neutral as the door opened _anyway_ , despite him not having given _any_ indication of wanting the person on the other side to come in; and he didn't have to pretend not to be surprised when a blond head poked around it, the Prince of Stormwind's pale face etched with worry.

"Wrathion? What's going..." he stopped himself mid-sentence as he took in both the state of the room, and the state of Wrathion's bared wrists. "...on..."

"Go away," said the Black Prince, crossing his arms and staring balefully.  
Anduin took a deep breath and stepped inside the room anyway. "I just wanted to keep you company," he said quietly. "It looks like you might need it."  
"I don't _want_  company. Yours or any other's. Go away."  
"Well, maybe you don't." Anduin lifted his chin. "But you don't look to be getting anywhere on your own, either."  
Wrathion paused, then turned his glare to the floor. "Shut up."

He at least moved to close the door behind Anduin; he didn't want more people than necessary seeing the mess. Anduin himself moved over to the bed - the covers were strewn every which way, a few ripped and at least one of the pillows shredded, but the frame was in tact. He sat down on the edge of it and, after a few moments, managed to persuade Wrathion to join him.

They sat there, half a foot away from each other, for at least ten minutes of silence.

Eventually, Anduin broke it. "Can... I heal the--"  
"Absolutely not," Wrathion cut him off.  
Anduin breathed out. He knew he had to be patient. "When... my friends are injured, I usually like to offer to heal them. What's different?"  
Wrathion pouted, glaring sidelong at Anduin. He didn't think someone as... well... _good_ as Anduin could possibly understand, but... he supposed Anduin was clever. He'd give him a chance. "When you train an animal to do things, you reward them when they're successful and punish them when they fail or make a mistake."  
Anduin pulled a face - the way he'd learned to raise his own animals, he would reward them for a success and _ignore_ a failure or mistake - but didn't interrupt.  
"This is the punishment. If I don't do this, I'll never learn."

Anduin thought about this for a while. Quietly, he shuffled up to Wrathion and gently leant against him. Wrathion didn't protest.

It was another five minutes or so before Anduin spoke again. "I think you deserve something different than this," he said quietly, carefully.  
Wrathion scowled. "I think that's up for me to decide, Anduin Wrynn."  
Anduin took another breath, then leant his head gently against Wrathion's. "Yes, but... I also thought that since you chose to date me and everything, that meant you cared a little about what I thought you deserved. Was I wrong..?"  
"... no," Wrathion said, quieter. "But--"  
"I won't heal the cuts," Anduin reassured gently. And Wrathion seemed to relax, at that.

There was another period of quiet, and this time it was Wrathion who spoke up. "Is... so then." He swallowed, and started again. "What _is_  it that you think I deserve?"  
"Oh, plenty of things," Anduin said, almost cheerfully. "I think you deserve warmth and comfort. I think you deserve friends who respect you. I think you deserve to pursue hobbies that keep you occupied. I think you deserve a nice bed to go back to at night. And I think you deserve me."  
"I-- no," Wrathion objected, and Anduin's about to do the same right back when Wrathion continued. "It will _always_  be an honour, not a right, to have your company. I don't deserve anything that you choose to give me willingly. I'm privileged to have it, but I do not deserve it."  
Anduin's expression softened from a frown to a smile. "Then let me do you the honour," he murmured - then leaned in to gently press a kiss to Wrathion's lips.

Wrathion didn't resist it, and in fact he rest one of his hands on Anduin's shoulder after a moment. They stayed like that for a while - Anduin gentle and sweet, Wrathion reserved but needy. Anduin brought his hand up to gently stroke at Wrathion's tangled hair; in return Wrathion brushed Anduin's long fringe out of his face, pulling back for just a moment to admire him before closing the kiss again. And, in fact, it was Wrathion who first gave a questioning tug at Anduin's collar.

He paused there, looking at Anduin's face. He spoke plainly: "I don't want you to do this because you think I deserve it, or because you think I'll be sad if you don't."  
Anduin, a little to Wrathion's surprise, gave a sheepish grin. "To be honest, I came here today because I wanted to do this with you. I didn't know you'd be upset... but I was happy to try and help instead."  
And to Anduin's relief, Wrathion gave a small grin in return - "Very well, Prince Wrynn" - and kissed him again; deeper, this time.

The older Prince's mantle came off first, over his head, then his sash and tabard - Wrathion opened his tunic with great care not to damage the catches with his claws. Anduin couldn't help but feel like he was the one being honoured, here, with Wrathion's attention - when the dragon pushed him back, Anduin insistently rolled the two of them over onto their side. He wanted them to be equals, in this; not one monster using a holy man as a tool for redemption, and not one holy man deigning to grant his attention to a monster. Just two dear princes, looking for company. And, to Anduin's relief, Wrathion seemed happy to go with this.

Their tugs at clothing and touches at skin were gentle, but by no means shy; it wasn't long before Anduin's bare thigh was pressed tightly between Wrathion's legs, the both of them working their lips together while Wrathion slipped his hand down to palm at Anduin's exposed dick. It was clumsy and desperate, a far cry from their usual minutes or hours of cerebral teasing - and their peaks came clumsy and desperate too, Anduin groaning loudly into Wrathion's hair and holding him close as he came against the dragon's palm. Wrathion was quick to follow, pressing his forehead into Anduin's shoulder.

They breathed together, coming down... but Anduin slowly realised Wrathion's breaths were a little more ragged than they had any right to be. Brushing the dragon's long hair back from his face only to have him bury himself back in Anduin's bare chest, Anduin came to realise that the Black Prince was crying.

His heart plummeted - had he not... had Anduin gone ahead too quickly? He hugged Wrathion tightly, and quietly asked him so: "What's the matter, Wrathion?"  
The dragon mumbled apologies, and Anduin only rubbed his back, his gestures firm and soothing. He'd seen Wrathion cry like this once or twice before, and he knew he only had to wait until he was ready to speak.

Which he did, eventually. "I-- don't understand," he said, his voice strained and high-pitched. "I don't understand how you can think I deserve this." He let out a high-pitched keen, "I'm-- such a failure of an _abomination_  and you-- you _truly_  think--"  
"I do," Anduin reassured, quietly. He kissed the top of Wrathion's head. "I truly do."

They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each others' embrace - and although Wrathion didn't start to feel any more deserving of it... he did start to feel, at least, a little loved.


End file.
